


Probably A Masochist

by ultravioletlife77



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultravioletlife77/pseuds/ultravioletlife77
Summary: Draco can't figure out why Harry keeps hanging around him. Not talking, not being friendly, just... there. When he finally gets the answer out of him, Draco's sure the boy is a masochist. The way Draco lets him stay around despite what it does to his heart makes it obvious – he must be a masochist, too.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 166





	Probably A Masochist

“What the hell are you doing?” Despite the angry words, there was no emotion whatsoever in them.

“What the hell does it look like?” Draco continued staring at the boy who had just plopped down at the other end of his table. He had already started writing on a piece of parchment, not even glancing up at Draco. Draco huffed when Potter refused to respond any further.

“It looks like you're bothering me while I try to study.” Potter looked around in a dramatic gesture.

“Oh, I apologize. I didn't realize you owned the library tables.” Draco's glare hardened further, but Potter was already turning back to his book.

Due to all of the events during their schooling distracting them – the Chamber of Secrets mess, dealing with Umbridge, and the final year with Death Eaters who bordered on torturing students on a regular basis, to name a few – any current Hogwarts student was welcome to return over the summer to catch up on their studies before completing their final year.

Additionally, any current or prior student who wanted was invited to stay over the summer to assist in rebuilding the school. They'd only been there a month, but they'd managed to get most of the reconstruction done already. That left the students with plenty of time to cram their missed knowledge in over a summer.

But not many students had returned for the summer – maybe 40 in total. Point being, there were only two other people in the library that Draco could see. Just as he started to point out that there were a dozen empty tables he could have chosen, Potter spoke again. “You're the one who keeps talking, tosser. You are bothering _me_ while I try to study. Now, can you kindly shut up and we can both get back to work?” 

  
Draco opened and closed his mouth twice, then kept it shut with his mouth pressed tightly together. True to his word, Potter did not bother Draco. They continued in their work for another two hours, at which point Potter finally decided to pack up. Draco looked at the clock and realized he should probably be leaving soon as well.

  
“Goodnight, ferret,” Harry called as he left.

…

As the days and weeks went on, it continued. Potter would hover near Draco. They'd made something of a tentative truce, but they certainly weren't friends, which made it strange that Potter seemed intent on staying near Draco. For a while, he wondered if this was another version of Potter creeping around like in sixth year, but he didn't seem to be monitoring Draco or acting suspicious of him. He was just... around.

  
He wouldn't talk to him, for the most part, and usually didn't even really look at him. But he would sit with him in the library a few times a week and silently study. If they happened to be going to the same review session or heading back to the Common Room at the same time, Potter would fall into step beside him without a single word of greeting. There had even been a few times when Draco was reading or working in the Common Room, and Potter – for no apparent reason – felt the need to sit next to Draco and work on whatever he was occupied with.

Whenever Potter sat near or walked with him, Draco would look at him pointedly with a raised eyebrow. But Potter never gave any explanation. Never even seemed to notice Draco's confusion. Draco would occasionally shoot a halfhearted insult at him, and Potter would respond with a slight smirk and a snappy comeback, but none of the words held much bite.

…

“What are you doing?”

  
Potter looked up at him. “Huh?” Draco rolled his eyes.

“You sit next to me in review sessions. You study with me in the library. You walk the halls with me.” Harry waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

"So?”

“So, I want to know why. At first I thought you were doing something as absurd as trying to be my... friend, or something. But you don't talk to me or try to be friendly. I don't understand what you're doing.” There was a long moment of silence, and Draco figured he was not going to answer.

“You don't like me,” Harry eventually said, quietly. Of all the ideas he had come up with in the past few weeks, that was not what Draco had expected to hear.

“Wh- Did you think I was going to like you because you started stalking me?” Harry didn't even seem annoyed.

“That wasn't a realization, git. That's my explanation.” Draco took a deep breath.

“You have made a point to be near me for weeks because I don't like you.” Harry hesitated, then made a grumble Draco assumed was a positive. “What are you, some kind of masochist?” For a moment, he wondered if perhaps the Savior had some really deep-rooted mental issues where he craved an enemy in the absence of the one he had been fighting his entire life. But Harry responded.

“No, I just...” He sighed. He had not met Draco's eyes since the beginning of the conversation. “You are the only person I know that doesn't like me.” Draco scoffed.

“Wow, Potter. Savior of the wizarding world, and humble, too.” Harry lightly huffed.

“Would you shut up? I wasn't saying it like that. I wasn't bragging. I'm saying... you are the only person, probably in the entire world, who would mock me like that. Making fun of my... title,” he finished with a sour look on his face. “You are the only person I know that doesn't treat me like I'm the Savior, like I'm made of glass, that doesn't fawn over me like... Even the Weasleys and my friends, they act like I'm perfect and try to spoil me. They never call me out for stupid things or insult me anymore. Like they think I-I can't handle messing around because I went through so much in the war, but... but you are literally the only person who doesn't give a shit that I'm, that I...”

Draco gulped. He had never, in all his guesses, come up with anything remotely close to that. He almost wanted to say something kind, or at least not rude. But clearly, he didn't come to him for that.

“You are such an idiot, Potter.” Potter finally met his eyes. “Such a Golden Boy that you can't even let people be nice to you. Dial down the hero complex a tad, would you?” Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco was fairly certain he was hiding a slight smile when he turned away.

…

“What the hell is this?” Draco grumbled on entering the Eighth Year common room. There was no one in the room, but there were balloons in clumps around the floor and posters hanging on all the walls. Our Hero, one of them read. Savior of the Wizarding World, cried out another. Everything was in red and gold, of course. Draco felt his stomach twist.

  
It took him a while to magic all of the banners down and into a bag, seeing as there were so many. He wasn't exactly sure why he didn't just charm them away, but he eventually decided it was because it would be more satisfying to physically throw them out. Once he started removing them, he realized they were actually birthday cards from his fans. Draco grimaced.

  
“What the hell are you doing?” he heard Weasel's grating yell before he noticed them entering the room. Draco merely glared at him as he charmed the last card into the large bag he'd whipped up.

  
“Draco!” Granger cried, clearly upset. “I thought you were over your petty rivalry. It's his birthday.”

  
Of course he knew that. How could he not? It had been plastered in the Daily Prophet for the entire week leading up to it. Not to mention that people kept talking about it. Like it was some public holiday for them to celebrate. _Their_ holiday, not Potter's. 

  
“Exactly why I'm doing this,” he muttered. Granger set down the cake they must have just brought up from the kitchens on the coffee table.

  
“Malfoy, can he just have one day where-”

  
“Did you, for one moment, consider that he doesn't want this?” He cried, no longer able to hold in his anger. He gestured towards the cards vaguely. Both of them looked confused.

  
“Wh- of course he does.” Draco rolled his eyes, just now seeing the cake.

  
“For Merlin's sake,” he grumbled at the cheesy words in icing. “Thank you for saving us all!' I thought you were supposed to be smart, Granger.” Her face hardened. He glanced at the second cake and found it said simply, 'Happy Birthday, Neville!' He ignored them to charm Potter's cake to say, 'Happy Birthday, Harry!' instead.

  
“I admit it might be a bit... over the top. But you probably haven't paid attention to him lately.” Draco held in a snort. There hadn't been a time in his life he hadn't paid attention to Potter. “He's been moping around the past few days. He doesn't listen to anyone when they show appreciation for what he's done, and nothing we say has been able to cheer him up! We just wanted to really show him how much he means to everyone.”

  
“Except ungrateful pricks like you, apparently,” Ron muttered under his breath. Draco sighed, rubbing his temple.

  
“I don't expect you to understand, Weasley. But Granger, use that big brain of yours. Why do you think he doesn't want to hear about his accomplishments? Why haven't your attempts at cheering him worked?” Hermione's anger was replaced with confusion.

  
“Well, because he doesn't have confidence in himself, of course. He's doubting himself, despite all he did, because of the people he wasn't able to save and the things that were lost in the war.”

  
“Wow.” Draco shook his head. “You really are shit friends.” Ron started raging towards him, wand suddenly out, when someone walked in.

  
“What's going on?” Harry looked from the angry faces to Ron's wand. Hermione gently pushed Ron's hand down.

  
“Nothing,” Hermione said too quickly.

  
“Draco's just being the prick he always has been. Thought he'd grown out of it a tiny bit, but clearly not,” Ron growled. Draco just rolled his eyes. He noticed Harry glance around the common room like he was looking for something, then brought his attention back to them. He was finally smiling, if only a small raise of his mouth.

  
“He's always going to be a prick.” Harry flopped on the couch. “Aw, a cake! You shouldn't have.”

  
“We wanted it to be a little more complimentary, but-”

  
“What do you mean?” Harry interrupted. “It's perfect!” He reached out to swipe frosting off with his finger, but Draco leaned down and smacked his hand away.

  
“Have some manners for once. I'm sure even you don't remember the last time you washed your hands.” Harry pouted.

  
“'S my cake.”

  
“I imagine you plan on sharing with your friends. Or does the Chosen One get to eat all of the cake while his friends watch? That does sound about right.”

  
“You're such a git.” Hermione and Ron didn't chastise Draco when they realized Harry was slightly grinning at him. Grinning. He hadn't grinned in days.

  
Draco tried to kick the garbage bag behind a chair before Potter could notice it, but that only made it more obvious. The grin faded immediately when he saw it.

  
“What's that?” Hermione's anger flared back, but Draco answered before she could.

  
“I had put up some banners that were... less than complimentary of you. A sort of birthday present, if you will. But these two felt the need to tear them down, for some reason.” The grin returned, and Harry let his head fall to the back of the couch with his eyes closed.

  
“Thank Merlin. I was afraid I was going to come in here to some gaudy decorations praising me, or something.” Draco met Granger's eyes pointedly, noting her blushing and turning away.

  
“Get over yourself, Potter. The world isn't here just to adore you.” Harry stood up, still smiling.

  
“What a shame,” he said as he walked towards the bedrooms, his voice indicating that he didn't find it a shame at all. “Guess I better take a shower before I get my germs on everyone.”

  
“Please do,” Draco called after him without turning away from the witch in front of him. “Are you done being gits? Do your friend a favor and don't do anything else to ruin his birthday.” He didn't give a chance to respond before grabbing the trash bag and storming out.

…

Draco sipped on a butterbeer, doing his best to ignore all of the loud noises around him. There was a group of rambunctious students behind him, playing some game he'd never heard of that involved flicking coins at one another. The group around Potter was playing another game he didn't know that comprised of naming things one hadn't done and the others being forced to drink if they had done that thing. He assumed it was meant to be a drinking game, but they seemed to be having plenty of fun with only Pumpkin juice or butterbeer. There were a dozen loud conversations going on at once, but Draco wasn't paying attention to a single one.

  
“What do you think, Draco?”

  
“Hmm?” He looked up to see the eyes of the girls around him – Cho, Parvarti, and Weaselette– all looking at him for an answer.  
“We were asking who you think will be on the Slytherin team this year.”

  
He straightened in his seat. Most of those returning over the summer - Potter, Weasley, and Draco included – knew they would be too busy with school to focus on Quidditch. His mind ran over the students that were left.

  
They continued a friendly argument, which Draco contributed to occasionally. They debated whether a fifth-year that was quite good would take the spot of Keeper, or if Akinns would still hold the title. Draco silently marveled at the idea that he was conversationally debating Quidditch with a Ravenclaw and two Gryffindors. Such a difference from where they had been a year ago.

  
Someone in Potter's group mentioned presents, and the few around them cheered for Potter and Longbottom to open their gifts. The rest of the room joined in as Weasley and Thomas grabbed several piles of presents and dropped them on the table in front of Potter and Longbottom.

  
There was plenty of _awws_ and smiles and chatter as they opened a collection of gifts – some very nice Quidditch gloves, a book on obscure plants, some kind of plant that was supposed to change its color to match your mood, plenty of treats of all kinds, and a scarf that apparently the Weasley mother had made. It seemed strange for a gift in the middle of summer, but Potter clearly appreciated it.

  
“Malfoy?” Ron asked with obvious confusion. Draco didn't look up.

  
“You got him a gift?” Ginny asked quietly. He looked up at her with a mischievous smirk. Her confused look turned to disappointment. “Really, Draco? It better not be something awful. I swear-”

  
It grew weirdly quiet as Harry opened the small package. Draco still hadn't looked away from where he was picking the good parts out of a bowl of 'trail mix', he thought Hermione had called it. There was a gasp, probably from Hermione when she realized what it was, but Harry just burst out laughing. Draco tried to hold back a smile that was threatening to show.

  
“You absolute arsehole!” He yelled, turning around on the couch to throw a wadded up piece of wrapping at him. It fell short. When Draco met his eyes, Harry was still grinning widely. He shook his head as he turned back around, but Draco watched from the corner of his eye as he continued studying the replica of the Potter Stinks button from their fourth year. Eventually, Harry pinned it to the front of his shirt before turning to the next present.

  
Draco looked forward to find the three girls in chairs nearest him staring at him strangely. He immediately cleared the smirk that had lingered.  
“What?” Ginny just shook her head.

  
“I will never understand you two.”  
…

“Thank you for the present.” Draco looked up from the book he was reading, laying in bed.

  
Potter was sitting on his own bed, legs hanging over as he watched Draco. He turned back to his book.

  
“It was a button insulting you, but you're welcome, I suppose.”

  
“I meant the other gift.” There was a brief silence. Draco looked over his book to find that they were the only two awake in the room – Weasley, Thomas, and Longbottom had gone to the bathrooms to get ready for bed, Justin and Blaise hadn't come to bed yet, and Ernie was softly snoring.

  
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  
“You signed the card, 'the only person in the world who doesn't like you.” Draco shrugged.

  
“I suppose there is someone else out there who doesn't like you.” He swore he could feel Harry roll his eyes.

  
“It was a really nice gift, Draco. Just admit you can actually be thoughtful.” Draco ignored him. Eventually he heard Potter settle into bed. Draco read the same page in his book a dozen times in a row without absorbing anything except that Potter had called him Draco.

….

It was silent in the library, save for the scratching of quills against parchments and the ever-annoying Weasley drumming his fingers on the table.  
“Hey!” Weasley called out, interrupting the peaceful quiet. “Where'd you get that?” Granger looked like she was going to chastise the red head, then noticed what he was asking about.

Draco watched as Harry followed their gaze to the quill he was using. It was designed to look like a snitch. The ink jar was a mostly round golden ball, and the actual quill had two feathers sprouting from it, spread out like wings in motion. It was obvious just by looking at it that it was excellent quality, and no doubt expensive.

  
“It was a birthday gift.” Granger's confusion doubled.

  
“But... I didn't see that at your party? I'm certain, because I wrote down every gift and who gave it to you so that you could write thank you cards, which you haven't started, by the way.”

  
“I'm totally about to get on that, 'Mione. Swear.” He exchanged a look with Weasley that indicated he probably never would.

  
“Seriously, Harry. Who gave that to you?” He hesitated, looked back to his parchment, then shrugged. Draco had forgotten what a terrible liar the idiot was.

  
“Oddly, they didn't leave a name. They just left it for me to find.” It looked like Granger could not possibly be more confused.

  
“Are you serious? That must have cost a small fortune. And they didn't even take credit?”

  
“Must be a secret admirer,” Weasley guessed. Harry had certainly received plenty of gifts from them.

  
Harry grinned as he looked up to met Draco's eyes. Draco immediately dropped his head down and pretended he wasn't listening. “You know what? I think it was.” Granger scoffed.

  
“They must be some kind of admirer if they go out of their way to get you something that nice and don't even take credit for it.” Draco did not have to look back up to know the idiot was grinning in amusement, still staring at Draco.

  
“Yeah. They must be really obsessed with me.”

  
Weasley agreed, quickly grabbing it to test it out. Harry protested, but didn't stop him. It dawned on Draco that there was a set of eyes on him, and Harry was definitely paying attention to Weasley. He looked up as subtly as he could to find Granger scrutinizing him. Her eyes flicked from Harry to Draco like she was processing something. He snapped his eyes down to his parchment, where he hadn't written anything since the Golden Trio had started talking.

  
And he wasn't blushing. Malfoys didn't blush.

  
He was eternally grateful when Justin called out for them to kindly shut up or leave the library.

…

Three days. It had been three days. Draco sighed when he glanced up and saw Harry staring at the fireplace.

  
If Draco thought Weasley and Harry laughing obnoxiously loudly in the common room was annoying, the two making a point of ignoring each other was somehow worse. In every class, there was an awkward moment where Granger and all of the other Gryffindors hesitated, as no one wanted to sit with either Harry or Weasley, knowing the other would take it as them choosing the other's side. The same was true in the Great Hall, where the two former best friends sat several feet apart, and their friends were forced to pick a side or sit awkwardly between them.

  
Whenever Weasley and Harry were forced to be near each other, they made a dramatic scene of glaring at each other for far too long until one of them stormed away. It was annoying and awkward, and Draco found himself wondering if this is what it had been like when he and Harry constantly fought in earlier years. Draco was certain that two years ago, Granger or Weaselette or one of the other Gryffindors would have bothered Harry to apologize by now. But he saw now what Harry had meant – no one wanted to even _suggest_ that the Chosen One needed to apologize to anyone.

  
Ten minutes ago, Harry had seen Weasley enter the common room. The two made fierce eye contact before Weasley stormed off into the dorms with Thomas and Longbottom, who awkwardly nodded at Harry before continuing with Weasley.

  
Harry was still glaring at the fireplace as if it were the redhead. Granger was sitting at the other end of the couch, nervously glancing between Harry and the room to the dorms. She was trying to write an essay and Harry had his parchment out, too. But it was clear neither of them were making any progress.

  
Malfoy rolled his eyes as he stood up and walked over to stand in front of Harry.

  
“Potter,” Malfoy growled. Harry looked up, his anger turning to confusion.

  
“What?”

  
“Go apologize to your friend.” Harry narrowed his eyes at him.

  
“Excuse me?”

  
“Go apologize to your friend.”

  
“Who the hell do you think-”

  
“I think I'm the only one who's going to tell you to stop being an ass, even though we're all thinking it.” Harry's glare returned full force. Draco could hear that everyone in the common room had stopped talking. Without looking away from Harry's eyes, he knew they were all staring at him.

  
“I'm not the ass! He started it!”

  
“Are you five?” Draco asked, his voice stern. “I'm not saying he's innocent, but neither are you. We all heard you arguing and you said some really shit things, even if it was to Weasley.” Harry started to speak, but Draco continued. “You're making your friends uncomfortable and miserable. Weasley's obviously miserable. You're clearly miserable. And I'm tired of seeing the theatrics every time you walk in the same damn room.

  
“He's your best friend, you idiot, and you're not going to win a war together just to walk away from him because he yelled at you. So stop waiting around while it's unbearable for everyone, be the bigger person, and go fucking apologize.” Draco yanked Harry to his feet by his robes, earning wide eyes and a furious glare. He vaguely heard a gasp from across the room.

  
“No,” Harry said, but he didn't sit back down.

  
“Yes.” Draco stared him down, wondering if Harry was about to punch him. Harry clenched his fist like he was considering it. After a long-drawn-out staring contest, Harry suddenly stormed off into the dorms.

  
Draco shook his head and calmly returned to his Charms assignment a few chairs away. He knew plenty of people were still staring at him, but he ignored them in favor of his homework.

  
Almost twenty minutes later, Harry walked back into the common room with his three Gryffindor friends in tow. They were all laughing as they entered and continued toward the exit into the castle. Harry stilled when he met Draco's eye, awkwardly biting his lip and nodding at Draco with what he knew to be thanks. Draco nodded back and rolled his eyes as he turned back to his homework once again.

Finally, he could focus.  
…

Two people dropped onto the bench across from Draco. He looked up from his plate to see the Weaselette and Granger looking at him. There were only two tables being used in the Great Hall since so few students were there – the Ravenclaws and Slytherins at one, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs at the other. Different houses would sometimes sit together in the library or the common room, and even hang out. A few that had become friends even sat together in the Great Hall, but not people who could just tolerate each other.

  
His eyes darted around them to see if Harry was with them, but he was nowhere to be found. Granger quirked an eyebrow. She was definitely too smart for her own good.

  
When they didn't say anything, Draco tried to ignore them. Even though he was reading – or trying to – he could see them having some kind of discussion silently. There were hand movements and gestures and eventually Ginny grunted when Hermione must have elbowed her. After that, they tried to act normally and started filling up their plates.

  
“How are you doing today, Malfoy?” Weasley asked conversationally. Draco didn't look up.

  
“Very well, Weasley.” He hesitated a moment, then decided he needed to be more civil if he ever wanted to be accepted back into society. “And you?”

  
“Doing great, thanks!” There was another silence. Draco quietly picked at his roll, but didn't eat anything.

  
“Good book?” Draco finally looked back up and nodded.

  
“It is.” He lifted it to show the cover. It was the latest in a fiction series about Veelas. Hermione's face genuinely brightened.

  
“Oh! I haven't read that one yet.” Draco sat up further.

  
“You've read the others?” The awkwardness fell away as he and Granger fell into a conversation about whether one of the characters was evil. Draco made sure not to spoil anything from the new book. When that conversation died down, they ate in a much more comfortable silence.

  
“So,” Weasley started up again. This time, Draco felt that whatever she was about to say was the real reason they were here. He steeled himself for something uncomfortable, though he couldn't think of what it could be. “Hermione told me about Harry's birthday party.” His eyebrows furrowed.

  
“What do you mean? You were there.” Weasley scooted her arms closer to him on the table.

  
“Yes. I meant, she told me what you did before his party.” Draco did his best, he really did. But despite all his efforts, he definitely flushed. Flushing was better than blushing, probably.

  
“Okay.” He said it like he didn't know what her point was. He slowly put the bookmark in his book and shut it. It was clear he wasn't going to get any more reading done.

  
“That was really nice of you. Kind of uncharacteristically, you know?” Draco already had excuses for that. He wasn't an idiot.

  
“It may not surprise you to know that I have had my fair share of shitty birthdays. I wouldn't wish that fate on my worst enemy.” To be fair, that was the truth. It was possible, however, that he might not have gone out of his way to fix his enemy's birthday.

  
But Weasley nodded enthusiastically. “Sure. That makes sense.” Her voice verged on sounding like she didn't think it did. “We were wondering more about how you knew what kind of party Harry would enjoy?” The unspoken _more than we did_ was heard by everyone. Draco aimlessly stirred his potatoes around his mostly empty plate.

  
“He follows me around so I will insult him just because he's so sick of being worshiped.” There was a profound silence.

  
“He... he told you that?”

  
“In so many words. It wasn't hard to figure out that overly-adoring him on his birthday was the last thing he wanted.” The girls both looked lost in thought.

  
“Did he... did he actually say we were...”

  
“Shit friends,” Weasley interrupted. Granger smacked her lightly. “What? I didn't have all day to wait for you to get it out.” Draco snorted. Or whatever it was that was more dignified that sounded like snorting.

  
“You really think the Golden Boy would say that about his friends? Of course not. I was just annoyed.”

  
“Oh.” Hermione nodded, her voice soft. Draco sighed.

  
“Look. Just...” What was it he had said? “Mess with him sometimes. Call him out when he's being a git, like he usually is. Just treat him exactly like you would any of your other friends.” Hermione's nod looked more confident this time.

  
“Thank you, Draco. That's actually really helpful.” Draco nodded, then took a deep breath.

  
“You're welcome... Hermione.” Ginny started, but Hermione smacked her again. He had to admit, despite the fact that she had punched him once, she had always been the most tolerable of them. She was at least intelligent and mostly reasonable. Ginny started to get up, but stopped when she noticed Hermione still sitting. She clearly had more to ask, judging by her face. Ginny slowly sat back down.

  
“That was also a very nice gift you gave him for his birthday.” Draco was proud that he was able to keep his face blank, not a trace of flush. He quirked one eyebrow, but Ginny answered for him.

  
“What, the button? I guess it amused Harry.” Hermione continued meeting Draco's eyes.

  
“No, I think he got Harry something else.” Their staring contest continued. He wouldn't break. He wouldn't look away. He was a damn Malfoy, a Slytherin.

  
“I have no idea what you think I got him.”

  
“Oh.” Her intense stare didn't change. “You're saying you didn't get him anything else?” Draco finally turned back to his plate, shaking his head.

  
“Look her in the eyes and say you didn't.” Clearly Ginny hadn't been privy to this part of the conversation, but she picked up quickly. Draco took a moment to steady himself before he met Hermione's gaze again.

  
“No. I did not get him the stupid quill.” His voice was firm and steady, but Ginny smiled like a loon.

  
“That's weird, Hermione. I don't remember you saying anything about it being a quill. Did I miss that?”

  
“Nope.” The 'p' popped like a bubble. Draco closed his eyes, the flush he had so proudly detained pouring out all at once. “I didn't say what it was at all.”

  
“Yes, well.” Draco coughed. “I overheard you lot talking about it. Couldn't exactly be helped, seeing as you were practically yelling in the library.” Ginny did that obnoxious head nod that was somehow sarcastic.

  
“Of course, of course.”

  
“Well. It's too bad you didn't get it for him.” Hermione wasn't sarcastic, just very pointed and slow. “It's one of his favorite gifts. He loves it.”

  
“How nice.”

  
“Ron thinks it's from a secret admirer,” she continued. “If it wasn't from you, I guess he must be right. I just wish the person who gave it to him could know that anyone who knows him that well, who's willing to get such a nice gift, who makes absolute sure his birthday is great...” Draco gritted his teeth. “Well. Harry doesn't usually like admirers, as you know. But I think someone like that... maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if this person... admired him. Maybe Harry wouldn't even be opposed to it.” She shrugged, but got up before he could respond, even if he wanted to. Ginny dramatically raised her eyebrows at Draco, then popped up and followed her friend out of the Great Hall.

  
Draco stared at the table for a long time after they had left. Was Hermione saying she wouldn't mind if they – if he and Harry – were together? Was she saying that... that she thought they were a good fit? And what did she mean by, 'Harry wouldn't even be opposed to it?' Did she know how Harry felt, that he might-

  
“You coming to Charms, Draco?” He pulled himself out of his thoughts and saw he was one of the only people still in the room. Blaise was standing on the other side of the table. Draco quickly stood up and grabbed his books.

  
“Yeah. Of course.”

  
“You all right, mate? What the hell did they say to you?” Draco shook his head.

  
“Nothing important.”

…

The fire crackled loudly, warming Draco's legs in a very comforting way. He wasn't even pretending to write an essay or anything productive. He was simply taking a break in the common room, comfortable and warm and past full from dinner. Blaise was sitting in the chair across from him doing about the same thing, it seemed.

  
Granger was curled up on the couch reading, and Weasley was draped across her. Draco wouldn't have been surprised if he was actually asleep. A random assortment of other Eighth Years were sitting in the group of chairs and couches behind them.

  
Because Draco couldn't possibly just have a nice, relaxing evening, the conversation from the other group grew continually louder. They were animatedly discussing how Neville and Hannah needed to just get together already. Apparently, the group had come to the conclusion that the best way for this to happen would be for them to start snogging in the middle of class. The conversation lulled, and Draco vaguely hoped they would talk about something that made them less excited.

  
“Speaking of couples that need to just bang and get it over with...” Seamus started ominously, definitely louder. “We're all a little sick of watching you two and your hormones, Malfoy.” It took Draco a few moments to register that he'd said his name.

  
“My- what in the hell are you talking about?” Hermione did what she could to turn and glare at Seamus, but it wasn't very effective with the loaf on top of her. Seamus rolled his eyes.

  
“Just quit the act, would you? It was kind of cute at first, but now we're all just sick of watching you two flirt every damn day, every damn time you see each other.” Draco was too lost to be angry.

  
“What are you on about?” He looked around the room, but everyone else was either grinning at him, laughing, or looking embarrassed. “I don't flirt with anyone.” It was hard enough for him just to say the word.

  
“Oh? What exactly do you call what you and Harry do everyday?” Instead of flushing, like he would have expected, the color drained from his face. He narrowed his eyes.

  
“I don't know, fighting? Insulting each other?” He noticed the Weaselette doing that God damn sarcastic head nod.

  
“You guys aren't even angry anymore. You're smiling at each other when you bicker. You get up in each other's faces. You can feel the attraction coming off of the both of you. It's sickening, really. It's like you don't even care that we're watching.”

  
“First, why don't you lay off other people's relationships that aren't even real? Not just mine, Neville's and Hannah's and whomever else you were talking about before them. It's none of your business. Second, why the hell would I or Ha- Potter care that you are watching us fight?  
“Third, plenty of you bicker, but no one assumes you are... interested in one another.”

  
“Name someone that fights as much as you two.” He was already starting to get very tired of the Weaselette's sudden challenges. He tried to think quickly.

  
“Seamus and Dean. You're always fighting.” Ginny scoffed.

  
“Not always by any stretch. And when they fight they're calm, not heated. Not giggling at each other. Not acting like they want to rip each other's clothes off.”

  
“Merlin!” Draco felt like he was just about on fire. “Do you have to be so vulgar? Why are you always here? This isn't even your common room.”

  
“Don't try to change the subject.” Draco looked to his friend for support, but Blaise was just watching with a grin. Draco narrowed his eyes. He would remember this for sure.

  
“We're waiting,” sing-songed one of the Patils. Draco couldn't for the life of him tell them apart, even with the different robes. He always mixed up which name went with which House. Wait-

  
“Patil. Patil and Justin.”

  
“Oh, we're definitely flirting when we bicker,” the same one said, no shame whatsoever. There were a few laughs and vague cheers. He gritted his teeth, his eyes scouring the room until they landed on the two in front of them.

  
“What about these two?” He gestured to Ron and Hermione. “They bickered like a married couple before...” he trailed off.

  
“Do tell, Malfoy: what was that before?” Draco didn't even pay attention to who was taunting him now. He stormed out of his chair and the common room, muttering something about idiots and not answering to them. He could hear Hermione chastising them as he left.

...

  
He wasn't even sure where he was going until he was most of the way to the lake. Even though there was a giant sea monster in it, the lake always seemed like the calmest place at Hogwarts to him. Besides, he desperately needed fresh air.

He had barely had any relaxation before he heard the familiar voice.

“Draco, what are you doing out here?” Draco closed his eyes. Maybe if he ignored him and couldn't see him, he would disappear. “Draco?” he opened his eyes to Harry, looking concerned. “Are you all right?”

  
“I'm fine. Just needed some quiet.” Harry hesitated.

  
“Would you like to talk about it?”

  
“Not really.” After a moment, Harry sat down next to him anyway. He noticed that Harry's hand disappeared into seemingly nowhere. “What are you doing? Or, what have you been doing?”

  
“Nothing.” Draco raised an eyebrow.

  
“You always carry your cloak with you, then?” Harry's mouth opened in shock, then he saw where it was in his hand and grinned, moving to fold it up.

  
“Well, kind of. Never know when you'll need it. But I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just went for a visit to Hagrid's. Wasn't sure if I'd be back before curfew.

  
“You aren't,” Draco stated stupidly. Harry shrugged.

  
“Came to see why someone was out here so late, saw it was you. I got distracted, what can I say?” Harry was grinning at him, the smile twisting his insides and pissing him off and making his heart clench.

  
“You are definitely a masochist. You enjoy being insulted and bullied, and you refuse to stop getting in trouble.” Harry made an over-the-top thinking face.

  
“Weird. I feel like... you might also be out after curfew for no good reason. And you don't seem to avoid an argument any more than I do...”

  
“Well, I might be a masochist, too,” he mumbled. Sitting beside this idiot and enjoying the way his heart was beating like a hummingbird's wings confirmed this.

  
“I'll only ask this once, then I'll leave it. You sure you're okay?” Draco nodded slowly.

  
“Yeah. Just got pissed at some of the Eighth Years. Mostly Gryffindors, of course.” There was only the slightest bit of teasing there. Harry was quiet for some time.

  
“They didn't... it wasn't about the war or dark mark or anything, was it?” His voice was deathly low, and Draco knew he would snap if he answered yes to that. His heart started doing flips, but he mentally berated himself. It had nothing to do with him personally. Harry was just too fucking nice to allow that. To anyone.

  
“No, nothing serious.” Harry nodded.

  
“Yeah. They can go a little overboard.” He put his hands behind him and leaned on to them, looking up at the night sky. It was a cloudy night with not many visible stars. If Draco had been alone, he would have gone in by now. He didn't actually want to get in trouble for being out after curfew for no reason, and he had calmed down by this point. But, for reasons he didn't particularly want to think about, this scene wasn't something he wanted to walk away from.

  
“I don't want to argue with you anymore,” Draco blurted out of nowhere.

  
“Um... I didn't think we were arguing. It sounded like we were agreeing-”

  
“Not right now, idiot.” Draco bit his tongue. Insulting him as he told him he didn't want to argue. Lovely. “I just meant... in general. I don't want to argue with you anymore.” There was a moment of silence. Draco didn't feel like he was avoiding facing Harry, since Harry was actually behind him.

  
“So don't.”

  
“But... then there won't be anyone fighting you. Insulting you. That's what you want, isn't it?” Harry had the nerve to laugh.

  
“And I'm the idiot,” He muttered, coming back to sit even with Draco. “I don't like being around you because you argue with me or insult me. I like that you aren't _afraid_ to insult me. I feel like this is the same way you'd treat me if I wasn't the Chosen One, or whatever stupid name you want to pick.”

  
“Oh.” Draco picked a weed from beside him and started picking the pieces off of it. It brought a memory of Hermione and Dean explaining a stupid muggle concept to them – taking a flower and picking the petals off saying, 'he loves me, he loves me not', and you had your answer when you plucked the last petal. How incredibly daft.

  
“I don't want to argue with you either,” Harry said softly, after some time. Draco was starting to think maybe his heart situation had nothing to do with the current situation, and he was actually just dying of a heart issue. When Harry bumped his shoulder to his and his heart immediately went haywire again, it was probably coincidence. “Look at us. Agreeing on stuff.” Draco chuckled.

  
“Look at us,” he repeated. Neither of them said anything for a while. Draco studied the water as he continued picking the weed apart. If someone had told him a year ago that this is where he would end up, Draco wouldn't have believed them. Calmly enjoying a view of the lake at Hogwarts with none other than Harry Potter.

  
“Where did that come from, by the way?”

  
“Hm?”

  
“About not wanting to argue. I'm just curious.” Draco flushed and, realizing the weed was as picked apart as it could be, tossed it to his side. He hadn't been playing the stupid muggle game, but he did happen to notice that if he had been, it would have ended on _he loves me not_.

  
“That's what they were annoying me about.”

  
“About... us fighting?” Draco nodded. “Um... why?”

  
“They were saying that... it was us flirting.” He wasn't sure why he told Harry. Perhaps because he knew they would undoubtedly have the same conversation with him at some point. The least he could do was help Harry be more prepared for that storm than he was.

  
“I am.” Draco's head snapped to the boy beside him.

  
“What?” Harry shrugged, but Draco noticed a slight tremble in his fingers as he turned the cloak over and over in his hands. Harry Potter was nervous.

  
“When we argue and fight and tease each other... I am flirting.” Draco struggled to find a response for longer than was normal, he knew. He recognized the flush slowly taking over Harry's face.

  
“Why?”

  
“Why am I flirting?” Harry laughed without humor. “Well, Draco. You see, when a wizard likes another wizard, that's usually how they communicate it to them.” Draco could tell he was being overly-sarcastic to cover his embarrassment. He was far too familiar with the tactic.

  
“Shut up. I meant why on Earth would you... like me?” Harry finally looked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

  
“Draco Malfoy, I have never known you to be humble.”

  
“You know what I mean!” Harry just continued looking at him with the same quirked eyebrow. Draco sighed. “You want me to say it? I was a Death Eater and you're the Chosen One.” Harry's expression turned sad.

  
“You didn't ask to be a Death Eater anymore than I asked to be the Chosen One.”

  
“I had a choice and I made it.”

  
“That's hardly true!” Harry yelled, much louder than necessary. “You hardly had a choice, Draco. You were raised by Death Eaters who brainwashed you your entire life. Voldemort lived in your house.” Draco flinched at the name. “They threatened to kill you and the only family you had. No one can blame you for that. Which is exactly why you were cleared of any charges.”

  
“I just... I don't see why you of all people would be interested in me when there are so many better choices. Better for you. People who actually helped you, who were always on your side. You know – good people.” Harry gripped Draco's chin gently and turned him so their faces were even, only a few inches apart.

  
“I've already told you why I like you.”

  
“Right. Because I'm the only one who doesn't mind insulting you. What a romantic reason.” Harry almost glared at him.

  
“How do you not get it? I don't give a damn if you insult me, or praise me, or argue with me, or kiss me. I care that I know you're doing it because of who I am, not my title or fame or any of those meaningless things.

  
“You will never forget that I cut you into pieces, that what most people think is my bravery is actually just utter recklessness, that I'm an idiot half the time. You know that I'm a pretty shit student and don't treat my friends as well as I should and can't shut up to save my life if someone pisses me off. You see all of that and don't try to erase it or excuse it, you just accept that as part of me.

  
“You know exactly what to say to cheer me up or piss me off or get me to do something, even when no one else does. They told me how you saved my birthday party from them; my best friends in the world didn't get it after weeks of me trying so hard to get them to understand, but I talk to you for five minutes and you did. You see me.” Harry somehow leaned even closer. Draco could feel his breath against his lips as he continued speaking.

  
“And I see you, Draco. I see you put up with the bullshit people say and the Prophet writes about you so much better than I do. And they're saying positive things about me! After everything you went through, you resisted and became a good person anyway. You couldn't kill Dumbledore when you life depended on it. You saved me in the Manor. You knew it was me, because you've always been able to see me. But you saved me anyway.

  
“You're way too intelligent and interesting for me. You may have liked the spotlight when you were younger, but now you hate it just as much as I do. Even if the attention is positive. You're brave and ambitious and don't take the easy way out.”

Harry breathed out heavily, barely having breathed during his whole rant. “Is that enough? Do you get why I like you now? I can keep going if you need.”

  
Draco gulped. His eyes flicked to the lips in front of him. “So,” he whispered, his voice somehow hoarse even though he had barely said anything. “You don't give a damn if I kiss you?”

  
But then Harry was kissing him, and he wasn't even sure what his heart was doing anymore. It was hard to ignore it when Harry slowly moved his lips against his, his hand gently traced his stomach up to his chest, his other hand found the back of his neck. Draco roughly shoved both hands into that stupid messy hair of his, the stupid hair he'd definitely never daydreamed about running his hands through. It was upsetting when he felt the lips disappear, until they reappeared against his neck.

  
“Harry,” he breathed out. He kissed a hot line from his jaw to the edge of his robes. Harry rested his head against the neck he had just been attacking. He was as out of breath as Draco was.

  
“All this time. Arguing. We could have been. Doing this.” Harry took a short breath between every few words. Draco laughed. There was a snap from a distance, pulling them both apart and reminding them where they were.

  
“We should get inside,” Draco stated the obvious. Harry nodded, unfolding the cloak with one snap of his wrists. He looked back to the blond.

  
“It's a little small for two people. You'll have to stay close.” Draco smiled at the suggestive look on his face.

…

Harry removed the cloak just outside of the common room, and Draco followed directly behind him. The common room fell to silence at the sudden appearance of the two, more than an hour after curfew.

  
The room immediately filled with snickers and grins. “Where've you two been?” Finnigan chimed out mischievously.

  
“Draco and I had a discussion about what you all said earlier, and you were right.” Malfoy kept his face straight, too confused by Harry's somber voice to be embarrassed. He noticed Finnigan's smirk falter at the voice. “Our fighting was immature. We don't want to annoy you, and we certainly don't want to give you the wrong impression. We've agreed to stop fighting.”

  
There was an awkward silence. Malfoy noted the questioning expressions and confused looks among them.

  
“It was a good talk, Draco,” he said politely, maybe even professionally. He nodded at Draco and walked to the bedrooms without another word.  
Draco followed him to the bedrooms without another glance at the crowd around him. It would have been more effective if they went in different directions, but Draco didn't have anywhere else to go.

  
In the bedrooms, they were alone. Harry was grinning at him when he entered. “Sorry, I just... I saw that look on Seamus' face and I couldn't. I couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it was his meddling that got us together.” Draco chuckled. “If you want, we can tell everyone tomorrow. Now, whenever. But...” Draco quirked an eyebrow. “I thought it might be fun to mess with them for a while.”

  
“Mess with them how?”

  
“Act like that. Don't argue or fight at all. Act all stiff and proper and polite with each other.” Draco smirked.

  
“How very Slytherin of you, Harry.” His grin grew.

  
“So you approve!”

  
“Of course.” Harry checked the bedroom door before moving forward and kissing Draco sweetly. Draco blushed when he pulled back. Harry lightly touched his red cheek, then turned away to dig through his trunk.

  
“So cute when you're embarrassed.” That only made Draco flush more.

  
“Something I'm sure you'll take advantage of.” Harry laughed as they both started getting ready for bed.

…

In the darkness, Draco turned to look at Harry's bed. The bright green eyes were already watching him, easy to see even in the darkness. It was silent, other than some light breathing and Neville's snoring.

  
At just the sight of Harry watching him with an affectionate smile, Draco's heart began it's jumps and flips again. Whenever they decided they'd had their fun teasing their classmates and they eventually went public, Draco knew his heart was in for more than it could probably handle.

  
He just smiled. Definitely a masochist.


End file.
